


green tea

by icingsugar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Sexual Content, pre reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icingsugar/pseuds/icingsugar
Summary: after making love, chat noir always has a cup of green tea. ladybug hates it.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 3
Kudos: 93





	green tea

Rolling onto her side, Ladybug folded her hands under her cheek and smiled. Chat Noir was by the counter, a hand against his bare hip, poised elegantly as he stirred his cup of tea.

She whistled. He glanced around; she giggled.

“Like what you see?” he teased.

“Do I  _ ever _ .”

Chat Noir turned back around with a smile, tapped the teaspoon against the rim of the cup, before coming back to bed. Ladybug squealed when he peeled the duvet off her nakedness to slip underneath with her.

“ _ Hey _ .” She clutched it back to her chest.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Bugaboo.” He winked, taking a sip from his tea. “And might I say, I  _ love _ what I see.”

“You made that pretty clear, you know.” Ladybug shifted her hands just a little lower, inched down the duvet, and on the fair, soft flesh above her nipple, was a purpling mark. “Lucky no one’ll see this.”

“But me.” Then he leaned down, teacup still steaming but held aside, and ran his tongue against the bruise. He sucked at it gently, and when she gasped, pressed down a polite kiss. A reclamation of what’s his. “Beautiful.” And he returned to his place against the headboard, sipping his tea.

Ladybug pulled the duvet up to her collarbone, and from inside them, ran her fingers over the tender flesh, the wet skin, the warmth of his tea-stained tongue on her breast. She sat up, after that, and snuggled into his side. 

Taking another long sip, he held the cup under her mouth. "Drink."

_ "Nooo." _ She turned her head in protest. The heady, barky smell of green tea still filled her nostrils.

"It's good for you."

"It's gross."

He pushed the rim into her lower lip. Conceding, and only a little curious, Ladybug opened up.

It was a wonder she hadn’t spat as soon as she tasted the first drop.

“Oh, man,” she moaned, “I was right. It’s gross. You could tell me drinking it would help me live ‘til a hundred and I  _ still _ wouldn’t drink it.”

“Your loss, Bugaboo.” 

He dipped his spoon back in and swirled in some of the grains. It was barely green, anyway, but it sure did  _ taste _ green. Ladybug all but gagged when he had some more.

“Do you drink tea at all?” he said, removing one hand from the teacup to rub her knee through the duvet.

“Sometimes. Only with my mum, though. She always ends up finishing off my cup.”

“Do you drink anything else?”

She pondered, playing with his fingers. 

“I like chocolate milk,” she said after a while, “and orange juice.”

“You’re such a  _ baby _ . A baby with bad taste.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that while you’re holding hot tea.” She jolted him — only slightly, but enough for him to hold the cup away from his bare chest and the white bed clothes. “Nor right after having sex with me. Not nice.”

“Aw.” He untangled their fingers to touch her cheek. “Come on, Ladybug. You’d have sex with me anyway.”

“Wanna test that theory?” she challenged, not angrily per se, but with a bruised ego.

Chat Noir placed the teacup on the nightstand and twisted around under the bed sheets. He pulled Ladybug into his arms easily, and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You have bad taste,” he whispered, and—  _ oh _ , she hadn’t realised his hand was under the duvet.

“No one over the age of eight likes chocolate milk,” he whispered again, and dropped a kiss on her cheek. 

Ladybug squirmed when his fingers wandered into the inside of her naked thighs and crawled upwards.

“You can stop now,” she panted.

“This?” He cupped her fully. His hand was terribly warm.

“Not that,” she snapped breathily. “Stop making fun of me.”

“Why?” A finger — his middle one, perhaps — slipped inside.

Ladybug moved away from his face and rested her hot forehead against his shoulder.

“What was that?” he asked, thumb coming up to her clit.

“You  _ win _ .”

Chat Noir chuckled, his other hand coming around to throw the duvet off her trembling thighs, and spread her legs apart all the more. “I definitely, definitely did.”

Grabbing his forearm, Ladybug tipped her head back. Green tea didn’t taste so bad when it came off his lips.


End file.
